


Ashes and Dust

by RecklessWriter



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team Dynamics, Time Travel, Uchiha Sasuke Has Issues, Uchiha Sasuke-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecklessWriter/pseuds/RecklessWriter
Summary: “Why me?” Sasuke asked. “Why choose me?”There was a fathomless grief in Amaterasu’s primeval eyes. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, the simple touch igniting every nerve in his body.“Because,” the goddess said softly, “you’re the only one left.”On the edge of death and sent back in time four years, Sasuke is tasked with changing the fate of the world all by himself. But he’s not Naruto, and he doesn’t much care for his foolish ideals; he’ll stop Madara his own way—and he’ll make sure Itachi lives this time, even if it means letting the rest of Konoha burn.But as much as he tries to pretend otherwise, Itachi isn’t the only person he still carries in his heart. And he might find turning his back on his teammates a harder task than he thought.[REWRITE OF KARMA IN RETROGRADE]
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 102
Kudos: 371





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the rewrite of my fic _Karma in Retrograde_. I know it's coming a bit later than I promised, but it's here! I also changed the name, even though I said I wasn't going to, but I felt like the old title didn't fit the new direction the story is going to take.
> 
> A lot of scenes are going to be directly pulled from the old fic, but a lot of it will be different. I hope both the old readers and new ones can enjoy it :)

Cold steel slid between his ribs, piercing his heart.

Sasuke choked. Blood filled his lungs, bubbling up his throat. He stared down at his own sword, the blade protruding from his chest.

“How unfortunate,” Madara said, his hand wrapped around Kusanagi’s hilt. “I gave you plenty of time to move.”

The Nidaime was behind him, his recomposed body pinned to the ground by black rods. He yelled something, but his voice was lost to the rush that filled Sasuke’s ears. The pain was _excruciating._ He coughed, and agony ripped through his chest, his vision going white.

Blood dribbled past his lips. He was choking on it.

_No—_

Madara ripped the sword from his chest. Sasuke gasped, his entire world spinning, his insides exploding with fire. He couldn’t breathe, and suddenly he was _falling_ —

There was solid ground beneath him. Madara was walking away from him, leaving him in the dirt. Sasuke’s world faded in and out, the flames licking at his insides cooling, turning his body numb.

“Kid!” a faint voice was yelling. “Kid, stay with me! _Kid_!”

The ground was cold against his cheek. He could feel the blood seeping out of him, a deathly chill seeping into his bones. He stared at Madara’s retreating form, at his sword sticking out of the earth feet away. His vision blurred.

_No._

The single word penetrated his mind, breaking through the numbness. He choked on the blood rising in his throat, his nails scraping the ground.

_No._

Memory invaded his thoughts—a gentle smile, eyes finally at peace. A hand reaching, guiding him forward. Two foreheads pressing together.

( _“I will love you always.”_ )

Sasuke felt something burst inside him—a surge of helpless, grasping desperation. His mind recalled the exact movement of his brother’s mouth, the exact tenor of his voice.

No. He wouldn’t die here. He _couldn’t_.

To die here would make Itachi’s sacrifice meaningless.

Gagging on blood, rebelling against every instinct in him that was telling him to lay down and die, Sasuke forced his arm to move. He pushed his body up—and unimaginable _agony_ ripped through him.

His vision went completely white. He thought he might have screamed, but he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t hear anything over the pain. He fell back to the ground.

Blood spilled from his mouth. He gasped, and every breath felt like inhaling razor blades.

_Can’t… die. Have to… reform…_

Darkness encroached on the edges of his vision, quickly growing. The world was fading out. Someone was yelling something… a word… but he couldn’t make sense of where it was coming from or what it was. _Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke_ … What did that word mean? What was—

“ _Sasuke_! Stay with—”

Everything went black.

There was a hand brushing his cheek. A woman’s voice singing a half-forgotten lullaby.

“ _On my deepest word… I will remember you…_ ”

Sasuke returned to consciousness slowly, the sound of the song drifting softly into his ears. There was something achingly familiar about the voice, about the way it curled gently around the consonants…

“ _Never in my life will I forget you…_ ”

The hand brushed against his forehead, and there was the soft scent of jasmine perfume surrounding him. It lulled him into a sense of comfort, of safety. Realization struck him.

He remembered where he had heard this lullaby before. This voice… gentle hands tucking him into his bed…

Sasuke shoved himself up from the hard surface he was laying on, his eyes snapping open. He was surrounded by an endless expanse of white, and kneeling in front of him—

Sasuke’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching.

“Mom,” he whispered.

His memories of her had begun to fade over the years, turning a once-vivid photograph into a blurry watercolor. But now she was in front of him, her image sharper and clearer than it had been in years. It punched the air from his lungs.

Her hair was the same jet-black as his, reaching halfway down her back. Her skin was just as fair, like porcelain; unmarked and easy to bruise. Her smile pulled at a memory forgotten by time.

Sasuke stared at her in breathless awe, his mind struggling to comprehend the message his eyes were sending it. The last thing he remembered was Madara shoving Kusanagi into his chest—

Sasuke looked down. His shirt was clean, completely unstained. There was no wound, no tear, and the taste of blood in his mouth was gone.

Sasuke swallowed as the reality of it hit him. “I’m dead. Aren’t I?”

But his mother only smiled at him, as if she found the words amusing. The back of her hand brushed his cheek.

“Not yet, my child. That is up to you.”

Sasuke tensed at the contact. The touch felt like flames flickering against his skin. And the voice… it was hers, but it also wasn’t. Sasuke couldn’t explain it.

“You’re not my mother,” Sasuke said, a flash of betrayal going through him. He pulled back. “Who the hell are you? Where am I?”

Sasuke felt incredibly foolish for falling for such a trick—for allowing a simple lullaby from his childhood to relax his guard so completely. Whoever this was… how _dare_ they take her form?

“Be calm,” his mother’s image said, sensing his anger. “I meant no offense. I only took this form in the hopes of putting you more at ease. My true one would cause you pain to look upon.”

For some reason, Sasuke’s anger actually _did_ dim. Her voice seemed to send out a wave of calmness, and it settled over him like a balm. Sasuke felt some of the tension in his muscles drain away.

“What are you talking about?” Sasuke asked. “I don’t understand.”

The agonizing pain of a blade stabbing through him was bright in his mind. He resisted the impulse to rub at his chest again. The memory was so sharp, so vivid—

( _“This is what they call a true ending.”_ )

Madara’s voice whispered in his memory, the words he’d been too out of it to understand only now making sense to his brain. And the Nidaime—it had been Sasuke’s name he’d been yelling. Begging him to hold on.

Sasuke shivered. His mother— _not his mother_ —rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You are safe here,” she said. “You have nothing to fear. Not from me.”

Around him was an endless expanse of white. Only moments ago, he had been bleeding out on the battlefield. He could still taste the blood that had filled his mouth.

Sasuke shrugged her hands off. “Who are you?” he asked again.

“Look within yourself,” she said to him. “You will find my name there.”

Sasuke frowned. He looked at the woman in front of him—really _looked_ , past the visage she was wearing. He could _feel_ her, her presence resonating with him in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t physical, it was _spiritual_.

She was powerful. He could feel her, like a tsunami. Like a hurricane, like a blazing inferno, like a lightning storm. Her power pulled on his, and his chakra _recognized_ it, threatening to bleed into his eyes.

A thousand burning suns. And Sasuke remembered his mother, kneeling on the altar floor, her Sharingan activated. He remembered kneeling next to her as she guided him through prayer.

Realization struck him.

“ _Amaterasu_ ,” Sasuke breathed.

The goddess smiled at him. Her dark eyes seemed to dance—filled with the flames of the power that was named for her.

“Yes.”

Sasuke swallowed. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart. “So I _am_ dead.”

It was the only explanation—the only way he could be sitting in front of the goddess now, completely free of harm. Madara had killed him with his own weapon; he had taken his last breaths on the battlefield. It was over—and Itachi’s suffering was for _nothing_ —

“I told you,” Amaterasu said. “You aren’t dead, child. Not yet.”

It was hard for Sasuke to look at her too long, now knowing what she was. Like gazing into the sun, the sight burned his retinas.

Sasuke used to go to her shrine as a child. He had continued after the clan’s death—had piled all of their bodies onto a pyre and watched their souls be released into her land. He couldn’t comprehend that she was in front of him now—the deity the Uchiha Clan had prayed to for generations.

“It’s over,” she told him. “All your friends are either dead or dying. You will be dead soon, too.”

Sasuke’s heart seized. He thought, immediately, of Naruto. Then he scowled at himself, flinging the feeling far away.

“They aren’t my friends.”

Amaterasu smiled, like a secret he wasn’t in on.

“This world has been broken,” she said, her expression quickly sobering. “It isn’t as it should be. But this fate can still be changed— _you_ can change it.”

Sasuke frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can send you back. Before this war began. Before everything was lost.”

Sasuke stared at her. “You’re talking about time travel,” he realized. “That’s impossible.”

Amaterasu laughed—a laugh identical to his mother’s. “I’m a goddess, dear one. _Impossible_ is just a word.”

Sasuke shook his head. Grasping his current situation felt like trying to catch smoke in his hands. He needed the world to make sense, but none of this did.

It wasn’t as if time travel was something completely unheard of. It had been attempted countless times. Fuuinjutsu masters had been experimenting with seals for decades. Nothing had ever yielded any results; it simply couldn’t be done.

But this was a goddess. _The_ goddess.

Sasuke stared into the face identical to his mother’s, and he didn’t dare let himself believe. But he couldn’t help it; and beneath the skepticism, beneath the logic that rejected even the idea, a feeling began to grow hesitantly in his chest.

 _Hope_.

Sasuke shoved it back for now, not allowing himself to be taken in by it. “Say I believe you. How would it work?”

“You would return to the body of your past self,” Amaterasu told him. “You would retain all of your abilities and knowledge. You would be able to prevent all of this pointless bloodshed—put a stop to Madara’s plans.”

“Madara is an Uchiha,” Sasuke pointed out. “You don’t consider him one of your children?”

Amaterasu’s expression _darkened_ , the air cracking with a sudden anger. “Madara is the reason my children were _slaughtered_. He has long since turned his back on us.”

Sasuke swallowed. In that brief moment, she looked nothing like his mother. His mother was gentle and kind, and incapable of such fury. This was the wrath of a god, bleeding through the comforting disguise.

“You are dying,” the goddess told him. “Nothing can stop that now. I can send you back, and you will be granted the chance to change things—but once the timelines catch up to each other, you _will_ die.”

Sasuke didn’t say anything, despite feeling the words settle in his chest. He had already suspected this. Madara stabbed him through the heart, after all—he was unlikely to survive that. Even with divine intervention.

But he couldn’t die _here_. Not _now_. If he died on this battlefield, with the way the world was, the truth would die with him. Itachi’s sacrifice would be meaningless. The memory of his clan would fade, just another tragedy in Konoha’s bloody history.

Sasuke considered what he was hearing. Time travel. A chance to _fix_ things. He was going to die at seventeen—but it didn’t have to be like _this_.

His mind was already racing with the possibilities. If it was true— _if_ —then there was a chance for him to save his clan. He could save his mother and father—warn them about Danzō’s plans and put an end to him before he could enact them.

He could save Itachi. All the pain his brother had been forced to endure… all the blood he had stained his hands with… Sasuke could prevent that. Itachi wouldn’t have to suffer. Not for him.

Sasuke was prepared to die. He had never expected to live past his fight with Itachi, but he had. If there was even just a _chance_ of saving his family before it happened…

“Why me?” Sasuke asked. “Why choose _me_?”

There was a fathomless grief in Amaterasu’s primeval eyes. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, the simple touch igniting every nerve in his body.

“Because,” the goddess said softly, “you’re the only one left.”

Sasuke’s heart clenched with a familiar pain.

The Uchiha Clan used to be so grand—so _revered_. They were likened to divinity, with their eyes that burned with an otherworldly power. They worshipped their grand deities, named their sacred techniques for the god that had blessed them. And the gods watched over them as if they were their own children.

That was all gone now—all lost. No more burnt offerings, no more shrines, no more prayers. Madara and Obito had abandoned the gods long ago, and now Sasuke was the last of the Uchiha Clan left. When he died, their religion would die with him.

He wondered if Itachi had still prayed. Or had he renounced their clan’s traditions the night he cut them down?

“I’m not a savior,” Sasuke warns. “Peace is a _lie_. I don’t care for it.”

“I know,” Amaterasu said. “I know who you are, Sasuke Uchiha. You are hardly the first of my children to be lost in darkness. But unlike Madara, I believe you are stronger than it.”

Sasuke wanted to scoff. He had no desire to part ways with the dark. He wanted to save the world—but he was not Naruto. His reasons for doing so weren’t altruistic; they were selfish, and he was not ashamed of that.

Amaterasu looked at him with his mother’s eyes, and Sasuke knew she could see this. She could read his intentions, his heart, but she said nothing of it.

“The choice is yours,” she said. “What do you decide?”

Sasuke closed his eyes and actually imagined it—imagined turning back the years like they never happened, wiping the slate clean. He imagined washing his clan name of all the blood that had stained it for so long, bringing back the light to Itachi’s cold, emotionless eyes.

Sasuke thought of his father; a rare look of pride in his eyes and the way his voice had sounded when he finally said, _That’s my boy_. He thought of his mother, his _actual_ mother—the warmth she radiated and her laugh that sounded like wind chimes. He thought of his aunt and uncle smiling down at him, and Shisui ruffling his hair.

But most of all, he thought of Itachi.

He thought of Itachi at nine, eyes still bright with childhood innocence, and at eleven, standing behind him and teaching him to throw a shuriken. He remembered Itachi at thirteen with the blood of their clan staining his uniform, and at eighteen, staring at him with blood-red eyes and a cruel, cruel smile; Itachi at twenty-one on his back on the ground, staring up at the sky with sightless eyes.

He remembered his brother’s skin cracked and crumbling away, and the sad smile on his face as he guided their foreheads together and promised, _I will love you always._

Sasuke swallowed, the memories bright in his heart. “I’m going to die either way?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want to save my clan before I do.”

Something flashed through those dark eyes— _not his mother, not his mother—_ but it was gone as soon as it came.

“Close your eyes,” she told him, “and brace yourself.”

Cautiously, Sasuke did as she asked. A hand pressed firmly against his forehead.

It was like a blazing fire against his skin. It started where her palm was touching his forehead, then traveled through his entire body. His skin was being peeled from his bones, his nerves bursting into flames. Sasuke gasped, his vision going white—

The last thing he heard was the goddess’ voice, her soothing tone now replaced by one of warning.

_Do not fail me, Sasuke Uchiha._

* * *

A week after the disastrous mission in the Land of Waves., Kakashi met his three students on a bridge, holding out three applications. He was late, as usual, and was instantly berated.

“I recommended you for the Chuunin Exams,” he said. “All three of you.”

The three of them stared down at the identical sheets of paper in their sensei’s hand.

“Chuunin Exams?” Sakura echoed.

“It’s completely voluntary. It’s up to each of you. If you don’t feel ready to participate, you can wait until—”

“Alright!” Naruto yelled, cutting the man off. “Kakashi-sensei, you _rock_!”

The blonde threw himself forward, his arms latching around Kakashi’s neck. Kakashi made a noise of surprise, Naruto swinging around in a circle while he clung to him like he was a jungle-gym.

“ _Naruto_! Don’t slobber on my vest! Let go!”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Kakashi pried Naruto off of him, setting him back down on the ground.

“Read through these applications carefully,” he said. “There’s no shame in wanting to wait. If you decide to take the Exams, sign the application and come to the Academy five days from now. It’s at three in the—” 

Sasuke gasped suddenly, cutting his sensei off. All three of their heads snapped in his direction. Out of nowhere, his eyes glowed a bright _gold_ , and then they rolled up into his head. He began to fall forward.

“ _Sasuke-kun_!” Sakura screamed.

The papers slipped from Kakashi’s fingers, as he lunged forward to catch his student before he hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Sasuke looked small on the hospital bed, his eyes closed and his right cheek pressed against the sheets. Kakashi reached out with his hand, brushing a strand of dark hair from the boy's face. "You're sure he'll be okay?"

The med-nin looked over from where she was adjusting the IV bag. "Your student is fine, Hatake-san. I've told you already, there's nothing wrong with him."

"But he _collapsed_ ," Kakashi insisted.

The med-nin sighed. "There's nothing _seriously_ wrong," she amended. "The most likely cause for this is exhaustion. It's very common for shinobi at his age—they train too hard, forget to take proper care of their bodies. Nothing a bit of rest shouldn't fix."

She fixed him with a chiding look, as she leaned down to insert the IV into Sasuke's arm. "As _you_ should know well by now."

He refused to be cowed by her tone of voice. It was true that he often dragged himself to the hospital for the same reasons she just stated—or had someone else drag him, on the occasions he refused to go himself. He was a frequent occupant of this place.

Kakashi looked down at Sasuke, his pale skin seeming even paler against the sheets. He certainly was the type of kid who would be prone to over-training—who would ignore his own limits and work himself to collapse—but Kakashi knew that that couldn't be what this was.

He'd been looking right at his student when it happened. He had seen Sasuke's eyes.

They'd glowed _gold_.

Kakashi pressed his lips behind his mask. "Could you run a few extra tests? Just to be sure?"

The med-nin opened her mouth, no doubt to rebuke him for wasting her time. But she paused when she looked up at his face.

"Okay," she said reluctantly, "but I really am sure it's nothing, Hatake-san. You shouldn't worry."

"Thank you."

Kakashi spared one last glance down at Sasuke—his chest rising and falling evenly—before turning away. He exited the room into the hallway, trying to be comforted by the medic's words.

Perhaps, Kakashi considered, he hadn't actually seen what he thought he had. Perhaps it had been the glare of the sun, reflecting off of Sasuke's face and playing tricks on his eyes—

No. He wouldn't lie to himself.

He knew what he had seen, even if he didn't understand it. His student's dark eyes had been gold for that brief moment—and whatever had caused him to collapse, Kakashi was certain it wasn't exhaustion.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Naruto yelled, as soon as he turned the corner. "What happened?"

Sakura wringed her hands next to him. "Is Sasuke-kun okay?"

Neither of them appeared to had seen what happened to Sasuke's eyes—they had just seen him fall unconscious. Good, that was probably for the best.

"He's having some tests done on him now," Kakashi said, "but it appears to be a simple case of exhaustion. He'll be fine after some rest."

Sakura's shoulders loosened. "Thank _goodness_."

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Melodramatic bastard. He just couldn't handle the attention being off him for a single second."

Sakura glared at him, but he wasn't fooling Kakashi. He could see the way Naruto's face shifted the moment he heard Sasuke would be okay—he had been worried, even if he wouldn't admit it.

Kakashi released a breath, purposely loud and dramatic, and fell into his usual slouch. He stuck his hands into his pockets. "Well, I think that's enough excitement for this morning."

Naruto and Sakura shared a long-suffering glance, but neither of them pointed out how it was actually afternoon by now (courtesy of Kakashi being three hours late to their meet-up).

Kakashi pulled out two of the three Chuunin Exams applications, holding them out. "Here. Use the rest of the day to make your decision."

"I don't need the rest of the day!" Naruto said. He reached eagerly for the application. "Chuunin Exams, sign me up! I'll blow everyone else away!"

Kakashi pinned him with a serious look, moving his hand away before his student could grab the paper from him. "This isn't a game. Don't take it lightly. Becoming a chuunin means receiving higher missions—no more chasing cats and pulling weeds."

"Yeah, Kakashi-sensei, I know! That's the _point_!"

"Missions like the Land of Waves," he stressed, "and your teammate nearly died there."

He felt his own feelings stir at the mention of the Wave mission—guilt and fear, as he recalled how close he had come to returning home with a body. He had made the wrong call on that mission, should have aborted it the moment he realized how dangerous it had become.

But wrong call or not, his three genin came out of it having learned something. They had gotten a better perspective on the harsh reality of shinobi life, had looked the possibility of death in the face and kept pushing on—and was the reason he believed they were ready for these Exams.

Naruto glanced at the hospital door that Sasuke was behind. Kakashi's words had sobered him.

Kakashi handed them their applications. "Think it over. _Really_ think it over."

Naruto looked down at the application, seeming to be actually considering it this time. Sakura's face was nervous and uncertain as she looked down at hers.

Naruto looked up at Kakashi before he left. "When Sasuke wakes up, tell him I said he's a dramatic bastard for fainting like a girl."

It was telling on how worried she was that Sakura didn't snap at Naruto for that 'like a girl' comment.

"Sensei?" she said quietly, lingering while Naruto was already halfway down the hall. "Is Sasuke-kun really okay?"

Kakashi attempted a convincing expression. "He'll be fine. I'm going to stay here with him until he wakes up."

That seemed to comfort her. She turned to follow after her blonde teammate, her eyes moving down to the application in her hands as she walked.

Kakashi sighed once they had turned the corner and were out of sight. He leaned against the wall, wondering about what their decisions would be.

He could predict Naruto and Sasuke's with almost one hundred percent certainty. They would both make the choice to participate in the Exams. Naruto might consider it more seriously now, after hearing Kakashi's words, but his decision would be the same.

Sakura was the uncertain element. Her motivation to become a shinobi, up until this point, had been based on a schoolgirl's crush. After having her eyes opened to shinobi life in the Land of Waves, did she still have the will to pursue this path?

Kakashi hoped she did. There was a steel hidden inside her, if only she gave herself the chance to find it.

His thoughts soon circled back to Sasuke—to the bright glow that had come over his eyes before he fainted. What could that have been? He had just collapsed out of nowhere; if it had really been caused by exhaustion, then surely there would have been signs of it in the moments beforehand.

Sasuke hadn't looked tired. Only annoyed at his sensei's chronic tardiness.

Kakashi pushed his hands back into his pockets, brushing against the single application still folded up there. He turned to make his way back to the room.

The med-nin was still there, preparing to do more tests as requested. She was in the middle of withdrawing a needle from Sasuke's arm, presumably taking his blood.

"Hatake-san," she said when he entered, circling around the bed to stand in front of him. "You might have been right."

"You did the tests already? I was gone for less than five minutes."

She shook her head. "No, I only just started. But I took a closer look at his chakra. Something about it was... well, I'm not even sure how to explain it."

Worry spread in Kakashi's chest. He clenched his jaw. "Try."

"A person's chakra... it has a certain flow. Like a river. That's why it's so easy to tell if someone's under a genjutsu—that flow is being disrupted. The flow of Sasuke's chakra... it's all disjointed. _Fragmented_. Like something forced in where it doesn't belong."

Kakashi frowned beneath his mask. "So... what are you saying? That he's under genjutsu? That someone did something to him?"

"No, that's the thing." The med-nin looked just as perplexed as he felt. "I don't sense any outside forces affecting him. There's nothing hurting him. His chakra is just... _wrong_."

Kakashi swallowed, his feeling of unease growing. He looked past the woman, toward his student sleeping on the bed. He remembered his glowing gold eyes.

_What was that?_

"So what you're saying is that you have no idea what happened?"

The med-nin winced. "I'm still running tests," she said, in a sheepish way that clearly meant _yes_.

Kakashi considered, for a moment, telling her about Sasuke's eyes. But for some reason, his instincts were telling him not to. And Kakashi hadn't survived this long by not listening to them.

"Whatever's wrong... you're sure it's not hurting him in any way?"

"I'm sure. Everything else about him is normal—he really is just sleeping right now. He'll wake up soon."

Kakashi looked at Sasuke, still and silent. He wouldn't be reassured until Sasuke was awake and he could see for himself that everything was okay.

"I'm staying here with him," Kakashi said.

He didn't phrase it as a request. The med-nin nodded at him.

"Of course. I've taken some of his blood—I'll examine it and inform you if I find any other irregularities."

She slipped out the door, taking the sample of blood with her. Kakashi sank into the chair by the hospital bed, feeling suddenly very drained. And it wasn't even halfway through the day.

Sasuke chest was rising and falling steadily. He didn't look sick or distressed—he really did look just like he was sleeping, as the med-nin had said.

But what was wrong with his chakra? What had she called it... _fragmented_? Kakashi might not be as knowledgeable about the flow of chakra as someone in the medical field, or as a sensory type, but he knew what it was supposed to look like. He had a Sharingan, after all.

 _Fragmented_ and _disjointed_ didn't sound good.

Kakashi frowned. He reached up and pushed up his hitai-ate, uncovering Obito's eye. The Sharingan scanned his student's body, seeing the blue of his chakra easily. And the med-nin had been right, it was... _strange_.

Sasuke's chakra wasn't behaving naturally. It was just as she said—it was broken up and chaotic, spiderwebbing outwards insteàd of flowing along his chakra pathways. It wasn't the distortion that appeared when someone was under the affects of genjutsu, and whatever caused it didn't appear to be harming him...

But then what could it be?

Kakashi pulled his hitai-ate back over his eye, frowning deeply. He stared at his student's still face.

"You three brats," he said with a sigh. "You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

* * *

Images flashed in the darkness of his mind. He saw Madara Uchiha—but in a strange form, his dark hair completely white—rising into the sky. He saw a blood-red moon casting its glow over the world. He saw bodies strung up like puppets, their eyes unseeing and the life being drained away—

( _"Do not fail me, Sasuke Uchiha.")_

Sasuke woke with a sharp gasp, the otherworldly voice echoing throughout his head. The unfamiliar pictures he'd seen lingered in front of his eyes.

That red moon... just like the one in Itachi's genjutsu. _The Infinite Tsukuyomi_.

"Sasuke." There was a hand on his knee, a familiar face in front of him. "You're okay. Calm down."

His heart was racing, he realized. He tried to slow it down. He shoved the images away, focusing on his surroundings. On the familiar voice that was speaking to him.

"Kakashi," Sasuke said, blinking.

His brain felt slow and sluggish, still struggling beneath the memory of that voice. _Kakashi_. Why would Kakashi be here?

"How do you feel?" the jounin asked.

There was concern in his voice, which didn't make sense. Why should he be concerned for Sasuke? He had tried to kill him—

Sasuke threw Kakashi's hand off of him, sitting up more fully. He was sitting in a familiar hospital room— _in Konoha_. There was an IV taped to his arm. He scowled down at it.

"What happened? Where am I?"

Kakashi's eyebrow drew down slightly, giving away the frown he wore beneath his mask. "You mean you don't remember?"

There it was again. That _concern_. So unlike his tone the last time they had met—the hard, unforgiving contempt. Kakashi shouldn't be looking at him like this now, the way he used to. It was _wrong_ —

"You collapsed," Kakashi explained when Sasuke didn't answer. "This morning when we agreed to meet. We were talking."

Sasuke remembered a battlefield. He remembered the agonizing pain of his own sword sliding into his heart, choking as the blood filled his mouth. And then—

 _Amaterasu_.

All of it rushed back to him. The goddess, kneeling in front of him in the guise of his mother. It was unbelievable, impossible to wrap his head around. He had always followed his clan's beliefs, even when there was no longer anyone around to teach them to him. But believing in the _idea_ of a divine being was much different then having one actually in front of you.

Sasuke stared at Kakashi. He looked down at his hands gripping the sheets.

 _This is wrong,_ Sasuke thought, his heart in his throat. _This is all wrong._

Kakashi wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to wake up to his worried face. He was supposed to wake up in his childhood bed, in his bedroom. Itachi was meant to be just down the hall, his parents downstairs with breakfast—

"Sasuke?" Kakashi said, the concern in his eye increasing. "Are you with me?"

Sasuke struggled to think past the horrible sinking of his heart, the sickness in his gut. "I'm fine," he said, struggling to get his tongue to work.

Looking at the man in front of him caused a surge of bitter betrayal to rise in his chest—looking at Sasuke as if he cared, as if he hadn't tried to kill him. He shouldn't be here, _why was he here—_

"You've been unconscious for a couple hours," Kakashi told him. "Apparently, you've been overworking yourself. You collapsed from exhaustion."

Sasuke didn't say anything. His nails bit into his palms through the sheet.

"How are you feeling now?"

Sasuke swallowed. "I... I feel fine."

His voice was slightly different. Not the voice of a seventeen-year-old. But it wasn't the voice of a seven-year-old either, and Sasuke could feel the cool metal of a hitai-ate against his forehead.

_This isn't right. I'm not supposed to be—_

"Well, you look alright," Kakashi said, though his expression still looked troubled. Sasuke's fingertips itched with the urge to strike out at him. "Stay here. I'll get someone to come look you over."

The man left the room, and Sasuke didn't hesitate for a moment. The second the door clicked closed, he was tearing the IV line from his arm, shoving back the sheets and making for the connected bathroom.

Standing was a strange sensation, and he nearly tripped over his own feet. The height difference was immediately apparent to him; he was half a foot shorter, and his body didn't feel like his.

He closed the bathroom door, standing in front of the sink and staring at his reflection in the mirror. His breath caught.

A memory stared back at him—a memory of a twelve-year-old boy in a high-collared blue shirt. White arm warmers and a Konoha headband.

Sasuke stared at the unblemished symbol, and he felt something inside of him _shatter_.

His headband—the one he had received when he had graduated the Academy. It was tied around his head, and the boy in the mirror was twelve. Which meant the massacre had already happened. Which meant his parents were already—

The realization left him hollow. The headband stared back at him from the mirror mockingly. His hand reached up to pull it off, and he ran his fingers over the wretched symbol, remembering Naruto's nail scratching through it.

The scratch had been shallow—not as deep as the one that had ran through Itachi's.

Sasuke stared down at it— _Konoha's symbol_ —and a surge of anger rose up through the numbness in his chest. His hands began to shake, and with a hoarse cry, he chucked the hitai-ate at the image in the mirror.

It cracked the glass when it impacted, but only slightly. It bounced off, falling onto the floor.

Sasuke stared down at it, shaking with rage. _Why? Why?!_

Why would Amaterasu send him back here? To _now_? His entire clan dead, five years too late to save them?

Looking back on their conversation, Sasuke realized now that Amaterasu had never said anything about saving his clan. That had only been an assumption he'd made. Amaterasu was the patron goddess of their clan, the deity that they had been praying to since as far back as their bloodline reached—and Sasuke had seen the pain in those golden eyes as they looked upon him.

So of course, when she had told him he could fix things, regain what had been lost, it had only been natural for him to assume she meant his clan. That the massacre wasn't supposed to happen, that he was meant to stop it—to _save_ them.

But here he was. His family was gone. His brother was miles away, his hands stained with their blood.

He should have known better than to let himself hope. He had let himself believe that he could see his parents again—that the world had actually given that chance to him. He had willingly agreed to give up his life for it.

He was a _fool_.

Sasuke fell back against the door, squeezing his eyes closed. All of it was for nothing. The goddess had betrayed him, just as everyone else had. She didn't care about the clan—they were all dead, and he was the only one in the entire world who cared.

Sasuke curled his hands into fists, attempting to control his fury. His Sharingan wasn't activated, but he could feel the power of the Mangekyou just behind his eyes—he still had it, even in the past.

After all, he still _remembered_ Itachi dying, even if it hadn't happened yet. He carried that memory around with him in bright, vivid detail, had memorized the movement of his brother's hand and the curve of his lips—

( _"Forgive me, Sasuke."_ )

Sasuke slid down to the floor and let his head fall forward against his knees.

When Kakashi returned to the room less than two minutes later, Sasuke was back on the hospital bed with his forehead protector in place. The med-nin checked him over, after scolding him for pulling his IV out, and gave him a clean bill of health. He was free to leave.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Kakashi asked.

He looked the same as the last time Sasuke had seen him during their confrontation on the bridge—perhaps a few less lines on his face. Just standing in his presence made Sasuke angry, and he tried not to look at him.

Tried not to remember his former teacher deciding he needed to be killed—deciding the truth of what happened to his family needed to be silenced, for the good of the village.

( _Just like Danzo._ )

"I'm fine," Sasuke said for about the tenth time. "I just want to go home. I hate the smell of this place."

Kakashi winced. "Trust me, I feel you there."

Sasuke moved to sidestep him, determined to make his escape before the man could ask him more questions. He ccouldn't remember exactly what happened when he collapsed, but Kakashi didn't seem to completely believe it was exhaustion.

"Wait," Kakashi said, stopping him by gripping his arm at the elbow.

Sasuke yanked himself away from the touch. " _What_?!"

The jounin looked startled. Sasuke bit the inside of his mouth, attempting to smooth out his expression. His arm itched where Kakashi had touched him.

"Here," the man said, holding out a sheet of paper. "Your application for the Chuunin Exams. You remember me explaining them, right?"

Sasuke didn't remember, but he answered with a nod. He took the application.

"They start five days from now at the Academy. Three o'clock. Think it over carefully before you decide to participate."

Sasuke didn't answer. He folded the paper up and shoved it in his pocket before leaving. He exited the building, starting down Konoha's streets.

He felt freer to think without Kakashi hovering over him. It had been unbearable, trying to converse with him normally while his head was spinning so fast. He was in the past, and that realization still hadn't completely sunk in.

_Does it matter? They're already dead. You're too late to save them._

The knowledge sunk into his bones, leaving him feeling miserable and hopeless—and angry, as well, always angry, because the goddess had had the power to send him back earlier, to let him save them, but she _hadn't_ —

It was blasphemous to curse the gods, even in your thoughts, but Sasuke didn't much care. What could they do to him?

He'd be dead in four years anyway.

He had wasted his life. He had been determined to stay alive in order to create a real village, to make sure his brother's sacrifice meant something—he had no other reason to care if he lived. He had died when his clan had, and the rest of the time he had simply been surviving on his brother's words.

He had never planned to live past their battle. It was only the knowledge that Itachi died for _him_ that had kept him from giving up afterwards. But if he had the chance to prevent all of it, then—

Then that was something worth giving his life for. And his death wouldn't have made Itachi's sacrifice in vain, because Sasuke would have made sure that it was a sacrifice his brother never had to make.

But it was too late now. Itachi had already sacrificed and suffered for him—all for _nothing_ , because Sasuke's death was already signed.

Seventeen. He'd be dead at seventeen, a phantom blade driven into his heart.

Sasuke forced his feet forward, passing people on the streets. He had returned to Konoha with Orochimaru and Team Taka when he had reanimated the previous Hokage, but it had been very different from the village he remembered. Half of it rebuilt after Pein's invasion.

It had been years since he'd seen it in the daylight—not since he'd left it behind for Orochimaru. There was no nostalgia as he walked the streets now—only a feeling of sickness, as he saw the ignorant smiles on the faces of all of its citizens.

Rising proudly above all the buildings and structures was the Hokage Monument. It had one less face on it than in Sasuke's recent memory, the Third not yet having met his demise by the hand of his former student. Sasuke stared up at the large stone faces, and his hands curled into fists.

A flash of memory hit him. He remembered, vaguely, clinging to his brother's back and proclaiming, _"One day they'll carve your face up there, Nii-san!"_

Itachi had laughed and called him ridiculous.

Sasuke didn't hate the Sandaime with the same intensity as he did Danzo, but that didn't mean he didn't still hate him. The man had dared to call himself Hokage—but he had never deserved the title.

Due to the reanimation jutsu, Sasuke had been able to speak to the Third Hokage. Unlike Danzo, Sasuke had been able to tell that the man was sincerely regretful for what had been done to his clan—but even when he had apologized, he had only said that he was sorry it had to be done. He had never once claimed it was a mistake, or that it had been wrong.

He had held up that it was the only choice to be made. Even Itachi had claimed this, admitting to his own guilt in his final moments while denying Konoha's. Why was Sasuke the only one who saw it for what it was?

_Why was he the villain for being angry?_

The Sandaime might not have ordered the massacre himself. But as far as Sasuke was concerned, he and the elders were just as guilty. It had been the Third's lack of action that had allowed a tyrant like Danzo to retain power—he had known of the man's dark deeds, and he had turned a blind eye to it. He had thrown Sasuke back into an empty compound, allowing him to hate Itachi, to grow up to kill him, when the truth could have saved him.

He had thrown a thirteen-year-old, who had just been forced to kill his own parents, out of his home and into a dangerous criminal organization.

There was no excuse. And Sasuke wouldn't forgive him any sooner than he'd forgive Danzo.

Sasuke pulled out the application in his pocket, unfolding it and staring down at it. _Chuunin Exams, huh?_

That would make this around the end of June. He'd be thirteen in less than a month—and off with Orochimaru in less than three.

Sasuke reached his hand up, gripping his shoulder. The Curse Mark wasn't there—but it would be in a little over a week. Orochimaru was lurking, preparing to make his move.

Sasuke didn't much care to let himself be marked again. But he couldn't stand the thought of sticking around Konoha either.

 _Itachi_ , Sasuke thought. _I need to find Itachi._

If only he knew where his brother had been during this point in time.

"Sasuke-kun!"

Sasuke startled at the familiar, _annoying_ voice. He'd been walking by the Yamanaka's flower shop, and now a twelve-year-old Ino was running towards him.

"How have you been?" she asked, stopping in front of him. "It's been _forever_."

She was twirling her hair, looking at him in an intense way that was clearly meant to be flirtatious. Sasuke was used to this from the majority of the female population, but in this instance it made him extremely uncomfortable, since he was mentally seventeen and she wasn't even a teenager.

"It's only been a couple months," Sasuke told her, ignoring the blatant ogling.

"Like I said— _forever_! We should grab a bite to eat to catch up! What do you say?"

Sasuke clenched his jaw. He didn't have time for this.

"Not interested," he said.

Ino's smile flickered for half a second, but she didn't let her disappointment show. "Oh, you're probably really busy, huh? Some other time, then. You're going to be participating in the Chuunin Exams, right?"

Her gaze shifted to the application still in his hands. Sasuke folded it back up, lowering his hand to his side.

"I am," he said. "I don't have time to talk."

"Right," she said, her disappointment more obvious this time. She forced her smile back into place. "Well, I'll see you then! Maybe we can make plans afterwards!"

Sasuke didn't bother to respond to that. He just began walking again, leaving her behind.

It didn't take him much longer to reach the Uchiha compound. He didn't allow himself to hesitate as he entered, just walked inside. The streets were bright and well-maintained—but empty.

He'd always thought that the compound looked strange during the day. When he thought of it, it would always be the way it was on that night; dark and horrifying, the streets smeared with blood and littered with corpses. It looked wrong beneath the light of the sun, as if nothing bad had ever happened here.

But it had. If you looked close enough, you could still see some of the bloodstains.

Making his way to his house was easy. Four years since he'd been inside of it, but his feet recalled the route, took it automatically without any thought. He walked up the porch steps and opened the door, which he hadn't bothered to lock since he was seven.

He didn't take off his shoes at the door. That habit his mother had ingrained into him was long broken by now.

He had half expected to find everything covered in dust. But everything was as his twelve-year-old self had left it. There was a jacket hanging on a hook on the wall, and in the kitchen, a few of his ninja tools were laid out on the table. A few dishes in the sink.

The house was empty and cold, but it was still undeniably lived-in.

Sasuke crossed the room, over to the stairs. He trailed his fingers across the banister as he walked up them, and they creaked beneath his shoes.

The door to his bedroom was halfway open. He entered it slowly.

The light was off, but it wasn't needed. Bright sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the entire room. His bed, perfectly made, and the large Uchiha crest above it. Across from the bed, the sliding glass door that led out to the small balcony. There were several hung scrolls on the wall, and his dresser was barren except for a television he never used.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—sunlight reflecting off the metal plate of his hitai-ate. With a scowl, he pulled it off, slamming it down on his bedside table next to the picture frame.

The picture frame that held the photograph of Team Seven. Sasuke stared down at it for a long moment—Naruto and Sasuke turned away from each other, Sakura smiling between them with Kakashi behind them. They all looked so carefree.

Sasuke grit his teeth and put the picture face-down.

He sank down on the bed, staring down at his hands on his knees. This was really happening. He was really back in time. But none of it mattered, because his clan was still dead.

Sasuke bit his tongue, tasting a hint of blood in his mouth. He remembered Amaterasu, wearing the face of his mother, and a surge of helpless anger went through him.

Why wouldn't she let him _save_ them?

Less than five minutes later, Sasuke found himself entering the Naka Shrine. He had returned here with Orochimaru and Team Taka to summon the previous Hokage, what to him was less than a day ago.

He didn't descend into the underground level this time. Instead he walked through the main hall, reaching the room where the altar was located.

 _Amaterasu's_ altar.

It had all been destroyed in Pein's attack on the village—the buildings, the houses, the shrine. He had returned to the village for the first time since he had deserted it to find the majority of the district reduced to rubble. No one had bothered to rebuilt it.

It was still standing now. Sasuke walked forward slowly, taking it in. He hadn't prayed in so long—and he certainly wasn't in the mood to do so now.

The memories were blurred by time, but he still remembered his parents bringing him here. Usually his mother. She would kneel on the floor, in front of the altar, sometimes with her Sharingan activated. She would instruct him on the proper position to take, chiding him when he got antsy and started to fidget.

Itachi had taken him one time. Only the once.

Sasuke was in no mood to worship the gods today. He hadn't come inside to bow down, to thank them for blessing his clan with such divine gifts. He did not come here to kneel or to pray.

Sasuke stared at the wall above the altar. The Uchiha Clan's crest was stamped there, as it was stamped on everything.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why wouldn't you let me save them?"

It would've seemed ridiculous to him only a day ago—yelling out loud to an empty room. But that was before he had been plucked from the battlefield at the moment of his death, before he had Amaterasu herself in front of him. Before he had felt her power.

The goddess that their clan had prayed to was a real being. Even now, Sasuke could feel a remnant of her power cycling through his veins.

Anger was bright in his veins, as he remembered the goddess in his mother's form. Tricking him, telling him he had a chance to fix things—

"I know you can hear me," he snarled. "I _know_ you can! Why would you do this to me? Why won't you let me save them, why send me back to _now_?!"

She could have. Of course she could have. She bent time and sent Sasuke's soul back, what would be the problem in making it ten years instead of four and a half?

She was supposed to be the patron goddess of the Uchiha. She had called the clan her children. They had prayed to her for generations, so _why_ —

"They're dead! All of them, _gone_! What exactly am I supposed to fix, how could you _let them die_ —"

Sasuke kicked at the altar. It crashed loudly to the ground. Tears stung at his eyes.

He remembered their bodies on the wood floor. Blood collecting beneath them. He remembered his brother in the memory of their death, the way the sword had shook in his hands and the tears had slipped down his face.

"Why?" he asked again. " _Why_?"

If the goddess was listening, she gave him no answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this out by Christmas, but I finished it a bit late. So Happy New Year instead, I guess. I hope all of you had a good holiday, however you celebrate it :)
> 
> Next chapter: Sasuke pulls himself together and begins making plans. Kakashi observes certain oddities in his student's behavior.


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